Perceptions
by Winter-Eyes
Summary: Nothing is ever two dimensional. Even those that seem evil have a life. It's not sappy, a marysue DOESN'T rear her ugly head and I'm not trying to say that Sauron is good afterall. I just look at things from a different perspective.
1. SheOrc

A/N: hello all, this is my first fiction, and for those who read, its not meant to have a plot or anything, its just a result of me thinking too much and having too much free time. There will be a teeny-tiny bit of slash possibly in later chapters (not enough to really comment on) but if u don't like, **don't read**.PlsRandR, this is my first fic, so I need loads of feedback!!

Warning: Much gore and violence coming up

Disclaimer: Yes, I own LOTR, and I'm so glad I thought ahead and got an internet ready computer installed in my grave.

Anyway, on with the madness!!

**Perceptions**

**Chapter 1: _She-Orc_**

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Slime, everywhere, coating, choking, burning. Writhe, push, and try to be free. Then air, fetid and hot, but with the promise of life. I stand, eyes blinking in the red light, as small creatures scrabble around me, clearing the rest of the filth that still clings to my muscled body. Smoke everywhere, but through the gloom, a beacon in white. My eyes are new to the world, but I see him, I know him. My master. The cry rips from my new-formed throat. 

Sauruman.

It is later. I am clothed, dressed in armour, my weapon clutched in my hand, my pack-mates jostling around me. I know already I am not as they are. Hours before I did not even know myself, but now an inner voice tell me, I am female, a mistake, not the master's plan. Yet I hide it, I disobey, though the pain it causes me is great. But no matter, I am built for pain. His fighting Urukai. A hush. He speaks. I feel his voice in my blood, my bones, my all. His commands are lodged in my brain, we will march, we will fight, we will kill.

Once more, smoke winds around me. Flames leap higher. My shield swipes at a passing head. Blood spurts. I am joyful, I do His will. Blood pouring down my arms, faces pleading…but in vain. The riders will not escape this time, their horses bleeding, choking in the dirt. But I am empty, where I should not be. I do His will, that consumes me, yet it is not **all**. I hunger for more. Fight, resistance, not just blood but spirit.

Halfling. The word, in fire on my brain. His word. Law. Feet tramp on the hard ground, tireless. Heads sniff the air, the snarl goes up. I smell man-flesh, I lust for death. There it stands, one alone, waiting. My brothers fall. I close with him, my emptiness is filled. It is against the rock, helpless, yet I pause. It does not fear me. Why? I am death, I am pain. I raise my sword, it waits…

Then ice, burning chill. An arrow, piercing, delving deep. My eyes cloud, arms deaden. It pushes me away…I fall. I see its eyes upon me. But I am full, I am at peace.


	2. Balrog

A/N: Oh my god, thank you!!!! I never expected that many responses to such a short random thing. This has really restored my faith in my writing, so as a treat to me and you I decided to follow my original idea of doing other chapters focusing on different characters. Again, the barest hintings of slash may find there way in (though you have to look VERY hard) so consider that ure warning! This chapter is dedicated to all my 5 reviewers…thanks guys!

_TigerLily713_: thank you! You were my first reviewer and so it really meant a lot to me!

_Not your average_: well it took you long enough! Poor pips…this will come up on ure author alert and u'll think I've updated Cities Apart…WELL TOUGH!!

_Wren Craven: _yes I know, that's why I decided to do it…and to continue it. Glad u liked it…I'll certainly review some of ure work…if I haven't already.

_Phoebe Telumentar_: I love the name (and what it means). Ahhh (blushes) that's so nice! I'm glad u think I wrote in character…lets hope I can keep it up!

_Estelendur_: I'm good enough to be threatened? WOOHOO! Here's some more...so put away the acid please!

Remember…more feedback is always welcome ;)

Warning: much smoke and fire ahead so wear protective clothing!

Disclaimer: I would love to own LOTR, cause then I would own the movie rights so would own Aragorn and Legolas…possibly. But I don't…so I own nothing (sobs)

The madness continues!!

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**Chapter 2: Balrog**

I sleep, wrapped in shielding smoke...warmed by flame. Nothing doth dare enter my domain; the small swarming creatures I permit protect my solitude…with their pitiful existence if I deem it necessary.

But a noise disturbs my slumber, a drumming permeating my realm. I have not permitted this intrusion; those that dwell here on sufferance will learn it does not do to anger their Lord.

I gather my flame to me, smoke billows as I rise and stretch wings too long unused. The inferno quickens in my veins as I summon my sword and flail to me. They will learn that to arouse the flame of Udun is to be consumed.

They run at my approach, their terrified utterances soothing to my senses. But some do not run. I feel their dread, this insignificant host, but they remain in defiance. At last they flee, but I must punish such transgression. Death is the price they will pay for their folly.

Who presumes to challenge me? So pathetic a challenge should be beneath my awareness…yet…

Anor's flame! Here! IN MY REALM! This insult cannot, WILL NOT be borne! I advance on the insect that dares defy me…but a fell sound tells me in my rage I have forgotten the frailty of Khazad-dum. The bridge crumbles beneath me and I fall into darkness…but I will not depart alone. My flail is in my possession for long enough.

And now we plummet together. I spread my wings…but the walls are too narrow and they are broken even as they reach their span. The pain sears through me, and I know fear. The white flame falls with me, adding to the fury as he scores my flesh. I long to grip him, to rend the flesh from his bones even as it chars…but the walls are too close and once more I must wait.

The black water engulfs me, and I know the meaning of true agony as the fire of my soul is extinguished. I know not how I live, but fury drives me onward to battle my foe. Our combat takes us to the peaks of Moria, and for the first time I feel the bite of chill air against my flesh. I howl for the loss of my inner blaze, and I long to return to the deep darkness where I may find rest. But pride must fought for.

The lightening comes, and I meet my end.

Morgoth, I return to thee.


	3. Wraith Horse

A/N: No I haven't given up on this fic, as this update will show, but unfortunately it will always get a bit of a back seat while I'm focused on Cities Apart. Hopefully, that won't bother you too much as there is no over-riding plot, it's just randomness given form. Anyway, now I am back some explanation is in order. Got the idea for this chappie whilst looking at the special features on the RotK special edition DVD, in particular the art work. It was a commentary on the picture of the Mouth of Sauron's horse, saying they wanted to make it look evil and unnatural…unlike the Ringwraith's horses **which were afraid of their riders!** Knowing this I think you can tell where my idea came from. One extra note…it may be a while before I update Cities Apart, as my A2 exams are fast approaching and I feel the suddenneed to do some revision. I will start writing properly again as soon as possible! Now, the great guys and girls that put up with this randomness:

_Not your average_: Yes, well we've discussed the 'doth'…no more to be said. Glad u liked the rest, and u got ure Cities Apart too!

_Phoebe Telametar_: Thank you so much! Hope this next one is worth the wait.

_Estelendur_: Yes, I too felt the world needed an explanation of why he couldn't use his fricking wings! Glad u liked it, sorry for the wait.

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**Disclaimer:** The fact I'm not dead convinces me I didn't write LOTR, I hope it convinces you too. 

**Warning:** Watch out for pounding hooves and horse death. Other than that you'll be ok.

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**Chapter 3

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**

We are home, or as close to as our masters will allow. The rock walls are everywhere, closing in, pressing, trapped, no space, no air, no light. Fear is a current through the herd, we try to find comfort in each other but none has comfort to give.

Then those watching give the warning. _They_ are coming. Head toss, hooves stamp…but we must submit. Rough hands fasten the leather round our heads and sides. The stench of death permeates them, such that we would flee from it, if only we could. But they are our masters; we were bound to them by the dark power and so can never be free.

But as the gates burst open we can finally run! Though we cannot escape the ones who ride us we can feel the earth under our hooves, the wind gusting past…all trying to build the illusion we are a simple herd once more.

* * *

But now they break up the herd. Our link is safety, and without it I am alone and vulnerable. Part of us knows none would dare attack the masters that ride us, but instinct can never fully be denied. 

I run on soft grass and woodland paths now, instead of bruising stone. Only when my master dismounts can I truly feel the life that pulses through the wood, life that his presence stifles. I can smell the little ones he hunts, but I will not reveal their presence. I too know what it is to be hunted.

When next I smell them such mercy is beyond me. My master rides and so I am his obedient servant. Almost. When we reach the water I refuse. My death should not matter to me, but I will not die alone…far from the herd. But the herd is returning, I hear their greetings on the breeze, and then we are one once more.

* * *

And now we run together yet again, chasing purity. We feel our master's anger from when they returned from the hill-top, smelling of smoke and fire. They urge us to chase faster after our white cousin, but in truth we need no urging. He and his rider shine with a sense of life and goodness we had almost forgotten, and we would sacrifice anything to be near it once more, even if such actions would cause their death. Still they evade us however; our cousin not weighed down with the metal plates our master's wear. 

We halt on different sides of a wide ribbon of water. As they try and force us to cross, we can feel the power building as protection from our masters is invoked. As we reach the centre we can hear the rushing water as it comes pounding round the bend, faster than we can run. Yet still we try.

But then, voices intrude on our panicked flight. From within the water come sounds of welcome, of welcome to the herd. From the edge of our vision we can see foaming cousins, part of the water though alive in their own right. They call to us, and we answer.

Finally, we have the strength to disobey. We plunge down the river bed, fighting the sawing commands at our mouths to turn for the safety of the banks. The crushing wave rolls over us, but then we are free. We are home.


	4. Watcher In The Water

A/N: Another random chapter amid the greater randomness that is this collection of shorts. This was harder to write than the others as for a long time I couldn't hear the voice of the creature I was meant to be writing in my head (which for other people would be a good thing…). Finally I managed to drag it out however (writing at three in the morning helped) and now present it to you…be kind.

**Disclaimer: **I don't remember any depressed squid in the Tolkien books, so you can probably be sure I didn't write the original LOTR.

**Warning: **As I said, I wrote this at three in the morning, so my sanity was at a lower ebb than usual. I was also hearing the voice of a squid…

**

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Chapter 4

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**

Cold water. Rest, sleep. Lazy kiss of ripples.

…?

Disturbance?

Rings spreading on water. Vibrations impact tentacles. Must awaken.

Defence?

No, small creatures…food. Must eat, body sluggish from age of sleep. Force blood to flow.

They wait above me, but I can also wait. They are mere children in the art of patience compared to one such as I. I feel my body awaken, my thoughts rising from the torpid blackness of hibernation. I waited almost too long to feed, but the twisted little ones swarming before were not worth my effort. Brackish, poison flesh and sharp metal to hurt. These above now seem softer…sweeter. Naïve enough to disturb the water and wake my hunger. They will provide welcome respite to this dark prison where there are no others of my kind. Since the movement of the earth so long ago blocked me from the salty vastness of home, I know unending solitude. To feed well is a lone pleasure in a life now mainly slept away.

But I have been with my thoughts too long. They have opened a passage into the dark rock and may yet escape me. No…one is still in the length of my embrace. I will make its death swift, unlike my own slow attrition. The reedy clamour of these small ones is meaningless…but the larger creatures are more of a threat.

Agony…dead numbness…the searing loss of my limbs spearing fire deep within. But, in their arrogance, they have come too far into my massed embrace and so will not leave. I will crush their resistance as surely as I crush their life. One screams out as it runs, but if the remaining creature dares to come offering aid it will meet the same fate.

The pain is unquenchable flame. I am threefold blind; the sharp shaft, the welling blood and the enveloping blackness deadening all thought. I was wrong to misjudge the creature that stood off from my embrace, as he alone pierced my defence and wrought such damage at my core. My prey flees me, and well they might. With the last strength I possess I seal them in darkness such as they have condemned me to. Let that dread place be there tomb, even as this water is mine.

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Take a large body of water, add one depressed squid, sprinkle liberally with reviews… 

Come on, take the hint!


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